Freshman Mistakes
by Mandelene
Summary: Tino is a spry student still trying to find his place in the world when he starts going to university in Sweden. Equipped with bundles of optimism and a thirst for knowledge, everything seems picturesque, until he meets Berwald, his cold-blooded and standoffish roommate. Now he's in for an adventure he never asked for.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note:_ This story was requested by the lovely **peppermenttea** on tumblr. This is my first time writing Sweden and Finland, so if there's something I get wrong, or someone is out of character, please let me know in a review! I'm thinking this'll be a three-shot. Enjoy!

* * *

All 6623 days of Tino's eighteen-year-old life have been spent in preparation for this moment. Sleepy afternoons and late nights of trying to get perfect scores on his exams have brought him here to this impressive edifice in the middle of Stockholm—his new home for the next four years (maybe more). As his parents unload the car, he takes a minute to be fully present, embracing this momentous, life-changing, soul-wrenching—

"Ahh, damn!" someone screams right before something rams into Tino's chest. He gets tossed backward and lands atop a dewy patch of grass a meter away with a sharp thud. Then, pain explodes throughout his torso and all the way down to his knees.

"Oh, god! Are you okay?"

He blinks his way out of his stunned stupor to realize he's just been hit by a bicycle—a very sturdy and heavy bicycle at that.

"You're alive! Okay, good. What were you thinking—standing in the middle of a busy bike lane like that?" the cyclist asks before pulling him up to his feet, insistent. "Come on, brush it off. Don't want campus security showing up, or it'll be a headache for both of us."

His attacker buzzes back and forth like a fly, constantly hovering and saying words that are a mix between reassuring and chiding. Tino's first day on campus and someone may have already broken his ribs. Of all the possible scenarios he considered about how this day might turn out, this never crossed his mind.

"You're okay, right? I've got someplace I have to be. See you around, maybe!" the person continues before hopping back onto his bicycle and rushing away.

Tino sweeps the dirt off of his jeans and stands up, rocking back and forth a little as he struggles to regain his balance. A moment after it's too late to do so, he considers running after the guy to get his name and report him. Granted, it wouldn't be great to earn the title of campus 'snitch' on his first day in addition to suffering over his sore ribs.

When he returns to the parking lot to join his parents again, he makes the decision to leave out the news about his near-death accident and talks about the sunny weather instead. A small hitch in the day shouldn't have to ruin everything or rain on his excitement. This is an important milestone, and he's going to appreciate it for what it's worth, even if physics is conspiring against him today.

He supposes he should visit his dorm room before bringing his stuff inside. The dorms have recently been renovated, but one wouldn't be able to tell if not for the flyers plastered all over the grounds reading, "Check out our new and improved resident halls!"

Except there's nothing new and improved about them. The walls are painted an ugly shade of green, the elevator takes at least a full ten minutes to arrive, and the lobby perpetually smells of bleach.

Fortunately, once the elevator does come, he is able to find his dorm room with relative ease and makes sure to knock on the door before letting himself in with the key he'd received at student orientation.

He expects the dorm to be empty, seeing as there wasn't a response when he'd knocked earlier, but to his surprise, there is a student—probably two or three years older than him—reading a book in the living area separating the two pint-sized bedrooms they've each been assigned—"suites" as the school likes to graciously refer to them.

Wasting no time in introducing himself, Tino sticks out his hand at the young man and tries to ignore the still throbbing ache in his chest after being pummeled only a short while ago. "Hi, there! My name's Tino, and I guess I'm your new roommate!"

The student lifts his head from his book, revealing a pair of blue eyes hidden behind the thin metal frames of his glasses.

"Freshman?" the boy asks.

"Yup, and I'm still trying to find my way around."

The boy mumbles something, throws his book aside altogether, and says succinctly, "Berwald."

"Uhmm—nice to meet you, Berwald!" Tino replies as brightly as he can, given the circumstances. Oh, no, maybe he shouldn't seem so eager and friendly or Berwald will think he's weird or that there's something wrong with him. Better to play it cool. "You know, I'm a bit relieved, to be totally honest. I thought I might get stuck with some creepy, weird roommate and be really uncomfortable for the rest of the semester."

Berwald, looking completely stone-faced and calm, says, "I am creepy and weird."

Is that a joke? Is he supposed to laugh? Tino can't be sure because the other's boy's face isn't revealing any hint of emotion.

He tries to let out a little, warm laugh, but it ends up sounding like a nervous, girlish giggle even to his own ears. It's silent afterward, since Berwald doesn't try to say anything else, and Tino desperately tries to find a way to either break the ice or disappear so he doesn't have to be subjected to this awkward social situation any longer.

"Well, I'm going to start bringing my things in and unpacking. I'll try not to disturb you," Tino manages to say through a dry mouth and a racing heart. "Talk to you later."

Oh, dear, his roommate could be a serial killer for all he knows! What if he enjoys witchcraft or takes some kind of ultra-psychedelic drugs and offers some to him? There must be a way he can have his roommate changed if he is genuinely fearful for the safety of his life. He'll find the paperwork and do whatever it takes.

He bolts for the stairwell because he can't be bothered with the elevator this time. Once again, he finds his parents and explains the events of the last fifteen minutes to them, quivering with anxiety. Is it too late to go back home and forget about attending university?

He gets scolded for being too quick to judge, and before Tino can formulate a more coherent argument, his parents start whisking his belongings into the dorm on his behalf. Berwald is gone now—probably out to get some lunch for the dining hall (or searching for his next victim).

Without any hurdles to get in the way, Tino gets settled fairly quickly and is forced to say his final goodbyes to his family, even though he wants nothing more than to drop down to his knees and plead with them to take him far, far away from here.

But he doesn't admit his fears and puts a practiced smile on his face, prompting his parents to get into the car and leave.

And now it's just him, this campus, and Berwald, who, thankfully, is still nowhere to be found. There must be some way to get his dorm switched. Tino will take anything. It doesn't matter if the building he's put in is twice as decrepit as this one and is located on the other side of the city, so long as he can live a long life and grow old in peace.

He sits anxiously on his new bed, bouncing each of his legs in turn and grinding his teeth. Berwald's been gone for a long time. What if he's never coming back? Was he so disgusted by the thought of having a freshman shadowing him that he decided to switch dorms himself, saving Tino the trouble?

These hopeful thoughts are shattered the moment Berwald comes trudging back inside, shoulders drawn and terse. Now that Tino sees him standing at his full height, he realizes just how tall the young man is. He must be almost two meters tall, while Tino is fairly puny in comparison.

Berwald's expression also happens to be permanently stern. It's hard to imagine someone like him even being capable of smiling. His glasses make him look five years older, he's dressed in neutral and monotone shades, and Tino wouldn't be surprised to find out that he's more of a robot than a man. Maybe he was a science experiment that went wrong.

"Hi, again," Tino says with a tight smile, and the muscles in his face feel like they're burning.

"Hello."

Even his 'hello' sounds like a death threat.

After a lousy murmur of an explanation, Tino retreats to his bedroom and shuts the door with a resound 'click', one hand resting over his heart. How is he going to sleep tonight? Berwald might slit his throat or smother him with a pillow. He should at least write out a will before heading to bed. That would be the responsible thing to do.

What if he ran an online search on the boy and did a background check to make sure he's not actually a felon. Would that be rude? Would Tino even want to know the truth? Perhaps it's better to be uncertain.

It's going to be a long year.

* * *

Why did Tino enroll in a philosophy class that starts at eight in the morning? What an awful idea! After a whole weekend of getting minimal rest due to his phobia toward Berwald, getting up out of his cozy bed on a chilly Monday is the last thing he feels like doing.

Berwald has enough sense to still be asleep. Tino doesn't know when his first class starts, but it's almost certainly at a more rational and reasonable time of day.

Tino takes a quick shower, changes, and half-heartedly tries to eat a bowl of cereal, which proves to be difficult when he's still partially asleep and not fully oriented as to how to tackle his schedule. A cup of coffee would be nice right about now, and he thinks he saw a coffee machine out in the common room earlier, but he's too socially terrified and inept to give it a shot. The dining hall would probably have coffee, but it's likely he won't have enough time to get to class even if he leaves now to get it.

He exits the dorms, checks his schedule again, and tries to figure out which building he's meant to be in. It takes some asking around and stumbling about in the wrong direction until he finally finds his class, which contains fifty other students.

Most of his class is also made up of freshmen, and they look just as frightened and out of place as Tino imagines he must look.

He takes up a seat closer to the front of the lecture hall and pulls out a notebook and pen, trying not to seem too giddy about being in his first university-level course. He's ready to soak up all of the knowledge his professors have to offer. That's what he's here for—to learn.

The professor arrives five minutes late and apologizes before explaining for another minute how ridiculously difficult it is to find a good parking spot on campus. He's a teeny, stout man with a thinning hairline and a sports-watch on his left wrist.

The professor calls everyone's names out for attendance and hands out the syllabus they'll be referencing for the remainder of the semester. He asks if anyone has any questions about the list of coursework or the required readings from the textbook, and when no one offers any inquiries, he jumps straight into the material with a PowerPoint presentation to aid him.

Tino must admit most of the lesson goes over his head. The information is dense, theoretical, and doesn't interest him in the slightest, but this is a required course, and so, he'll just have to find a way to survive. He's more of a hard-science type of person and prefers numbers over abstract ideas and concepts. It doesn't help that the professor keeps them for the entire two hours and doesn't give a short break halfway through.

But somehow, Tino endures and hopes his next class will be more riveting—beginner level biology.

It's definitely more of his forte, and most of the material is stuff he already knows from his previous schooling. He's banking on this being an easy A. There's a two-hour lab followed by another two-hour lecture, but this professor dismisses them early, marking the completion of his first official day of classes.

At two in the afternoon, he heads back to the dorm and resigns himself to needing a nap. Besides going to class, it seems there isn't much else to do other than sleep and complete assignments, much like the rest of his academic experience has been.

Berwald, on the other hand, must still be in class because Tino doesn't run into him again. Good—this give him the perfect chance to catch up on sleep.

He sets an alarm on his phone and falls asleep for a much needed and restorative hour. He wakes feeling energized and far less depressed.

Then, he goes out to get some food and returns to an eerily empty dorm again.

It isn't until six in the evening that Berwald at last comes in, as serious and emotionless as always.

"Long day?" Tino asks, trying to be friendly even though it pains him somewhat.

Berwald grunts affirmatively and murmurs, "You left early. Eight o'clock class?"

"Yes," Tino admits with a timid smile.

"Freshman mistake."

"I know. Better I learned sooner than later, right?"

Berwald shrugs his shoulders and drops his backpack by the couch. "What are you studying?"

"Umm… I don't know yet, but I'm thinking maybe I'll try dentistry."

Is this really happening? Are they having an actual conversation?

"You want to be a dentist?"

"I-I guess so. I'm not sure yet, but that's the only plan I have for now."

Berwald blinks his caustic eyes at him and huffs, "You don't want to be a dentist."

Tino springs upright from his lounged position, taking some offence. "What? How do you know that?"

Berwald grunts and doesn't say anything else to explain. Instead, he throws himself down on the couch (it seems to be his favorite spot) and flips open another book.

Not wanting to let their discussion die so quickly, Tino tries feebly to save it. "So, what are _you_ studying?"

"Linguistics."

"Oh, sounds interesting."

"It's not."

"Then why study it?"

"I like things that are not interesting to the average person," Berwald grunts, crossing one leg over the other casually.

Tino wants to ask him to elaborate, but then there's a knock at the door, sharp and persistent.

"Don't answer," Berwald warns.

"Why not?"

"Because—"

"BERWALD! ARE YOU STILL ALIVE IN THERE, OLD GUY?" someone shouts from the other side of the door, and Tino swears he recognizes that voice from somewhere.

The boy who nearly killed him with his bike!

Tino unlocks the door and lets it swing open, intending to give this visitor an earful as well as a piece of his mind, but he gets stopped when the exuberant boy with wild blond hair comes strutting into the room without waiting for further invitation.

"There you are, Berwald!"

Berwald glares woefully at Tino, looks away and at the rug, and mutters, "What do you want, Mathias?"

"Just wanted to drop by and ask to borrow your phone charger because mine is dead as fuck… Oh, hey! You're that freshman from the other day! How're you?"

Tino squares his shoulders, furrows his brows, crosses his arms, and hopes beyond all hope that he looks intimidating. "Fine, no thanks to you."

"Hey, no hard feelings, okay? We're all friends here—safe space and all that shit, right? I'll make it up to you by inviting you to a party my friend's having later tonight. He's got a studio apartment just ten minutes away from campus if you take the bus. Should be fun!" Mathias appeases, running a hand through his forest of hair. "What do you say?"

"I'll think about it," Tino grumbles.

Berwald looks like he wants to convince him to do otherwise but stops himself at the last moment. He grabs his spare phone charger, tosses it at Mathias, and hisses, "Don't lose it or break it, or else I want a new one."

"Thanks! I'll see you soon," Mathias replies with a shiny grin before sauntering away and closing the door behind himself.

"What do you think, Berwald? Should I go to my first party?" Tino asks.

Berwald grunts and doesn't give a concrete answer, clearly tired of all of this socialization.

"It couldn't hurt, huh?" Tino wonders aloud, and for a moment, he thinks he hears Berwald snort derisively in response—or he could've just been clearing his throat.

One party will be fine, surely. He'll just go to check it out, and if he doesn't like it, he'll come back to the dorm. Sounds reasonable enough.

* * *

The novelty of party-going is lost on Tino in the course of a single night. He enters the cramped, musky apartment where two dozen other people are packed—body atop body—and is hit with the pungent smell of vodka and vaporized recreational drugs (many of which he has never heard of).

He doesn't know anyone there aside from Mathias, who acknowledges his presence by muttering, half-drunkenly, "Hey, newbie."

"Hi."

"Hang out and introduce yourself to some people."

And so, that's exactly what Tino does, except he's rather shy at first. He finds his way into a group of three—two girls and a guy, and they manage to talk about their classes for a bit before the girls walk away to dance, slipping out of their high heels along the way.

"Now's your chance," Mathias says, coming up behind him with an intense look in his eyes. "Go and ask one of the girls to dance with you."

Tino's heart nearly stops for a moment. "I-I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm not—," he stops himself. How is he supposed to awkwardly explain to Mathias that he isn't interested in girls? Will he think less of him or laugh? Besides, it's not exactly information he's comfortable sharing in the first place.

Continuing to be oblivious, Mathias chuckles and says, "Nervous, huh? Get yourself a drink and then go up to them. It'll make a difference, you'll see," he promises, shoving a plastic cup filled with some kind of punch into Tino's hands.

No turning back now, right? He came here for the full party experience, and that implies he's going to have to dance with someone by the end of the night.

"I don't know, Mathias…"

"Do what you gotta do. You don't have to go up to them, but think about it like this—whether or not you have a good time tonight all depends on you. If you want to go back to your dorm feeling disappointed, sad, and lonely like Berwald, that's your choice. You can either sulk or get over there and have some fun. What's it gonna be?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Tino mumbles, swirling around the punch in his cup. "All right."

He takes a swig of the drink and coughs violently at how strong it is. It nearly burns his insides as it glides down his chest and settles into his stomach, leaving him feeling unbearably hot and flushed. That said, it does also gives him a strange sense of bravado.

Time to be a normal university student and turn his studious, bland life around for a few hours.

Except, there's one factor he didn't consider. It occurs to him a little too late that perhaps he shouldn't have downed his drink so quickly. Moderation would've left him feeling a little less hazy and allowed him to actually remember the night for what it was. Instead, he only remembers taking a girl by the hand, poorly dancing to a few songs, laughing until it hurt to do so, and then breaking out into a sweat each time he refilled his cup of punch.

Everything past a certain point becomes a hazy image, and eventually, he starts talking nonsensically, and the girl he acquainted himself leaves with a friend. The clock ticks on, and people slowly but surely begin to file out of the apartment.

He tries to walk out on his own two feet, but he stumbles more than once, and a slightly sober Mathias gets them back to campus and sneaks them past security, seeing as being caught under the influence on the school's premises can result in strikes on their academic records.

Mathias deposits him on the doormat to his dorm and staggers away somewhere, abandoning him. This is the second time the young man has tried to kill him.

Tino fumbles for his key, but can't fit it into the lock, and so, he slides down to the ground and leans resignedly against the wall, wondering whether it's possible for him to actually die out here from alcohol poisoning or something equally egregious.

He claws at the door helplessly and groans, nausea bubbling in his gut.

Miraculously, the hallway is filled with the sound of a lock being undone and the door comes creaking open, revealing a disgruntled Berwald.

Tino tries to say hello, but it ends up sounding more like, "Heehhh."

Berwald glares at him from over the rim of his glasses and says, "You drank the punch, didn't you?"

"Mmmm."

"Freshmen," Berwald grumbles with a shake of his head.

And that's when Tino vomits all over Berwald's slippers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hey, guys! This is part two of three. Enjoy!

* * *

"Berwald? Beeeeerwald?"

"What?"

"I think I'm dying."

"You're not."

"I am. This is what dying is like."

"How would you know?"

"Instinct."

Berwald scoffs. "Drink the water I gave you."

"Will it keep me from dying?"

"…Yes."

"Okay. Thanks, Berwald. You're a real friend."

"Remember to be sick in the toilet next time."

Tino moans in agony as his stomach tightens and continues to make him feel downright awful. He's curled up on the freezing cold tiles of the bathroom, arms wrapped around his abdomen as he wonders how in the world he thought it'd be a good idea to do this to his body. Never again. Now he knows why it's called fruit _punch_ because it's sure as hell punching his digestive system and is currently crippling his liver.

Berwald turns out all of the lights except for the one in the bathroom where Tino is. Tino will appreciate his dutiful help in the morning, but until then, he'll remain a cluster of whines and garbled phrases that are heavily slurred and don't make any sense. Nonetheless, somewhere in his rational mind, he's glad someone is around to make sure he's not getting dehydrated or actually dying in any way, shape, or form. This is a true sign of companionship, surely, and now Tino is almost wholly convinced Berwald isn't as dangerous or shifty as he originally seemed.

Berwald clearly has a gentler, softer side to him, it's just unfortunate that Tino had to learn this the hard way.

"Tino? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"Want to go to your bed?"

"Wow, Berwald. This is really sudden."

Berwald's brows come together in confusion. "What's so sudden?"

"You wanting to go to bed with me. I'm drunk. Not tonight."

"That's not what I meant! How much punch did you drink?"

"Not much…"

"I don't believe you," Berwald grunts before tugging Tino up, dragging him out of the bathroom, and leading him on wobbly feet to his bed. "Go to sleep."

"I'm not tired," Tino gripes, head still immensely fuzzy.

"Too bad."

"Berwald, what do you like about Sweden?"

"Why are you asking that question now of all times?"

"I'm—" Tino has to pause to hiccup, "curious."

"Well, it's the only place I've ever known. It's home. Everyone likes their home."

Tino makes a noise of disagreement and hums, "Not everyone. Some people have homes they hate and want to run away."

"I see your point, but we always have an attachment to where we grew up, even if we end up moving away and say we don't want to go back."

This is the most Tino has ever heard Berwald talk, and it's a shame he's not in a decent state of mind to delve deeper into the conversation. Being in the condition he's in, he's only able to reply with another hum before his thoughts drift elsewhere. By the time he realizes there was something else he wanted to say, he has already forgotten what that something was.

"Goodnight," Berwald says at last, turning away. "Don't die, okay?"

Tino manages a smile, just sober enough to recognize Berwald is making a joke. "Okay. I won't."

And so, Tino takes a few measured breaths and let's his fatigue from staying up late and partying catch up with him. After some tossing, turning, and more groaning, he does doze off, and as soon as he cracks his eyes open in the morning, he has to immediately shut them again when the sunlight coming in through the window nearly blinds him and makes his head hurt with such vigor it makes him dizzy.

His first hangover—what a horrible rite of passage.

Berwald, bless his terrifying heart, hands him a cup of coffee as soon as he sees him and says, "This'll help."

Tino doesn't hesitate to take the offering. It's the saving grace of what is likely going to be the most unnecessarily painful morning of his generally unoriginal and fun-deprived life.

" _KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! Open up!"_

Not him again, Tino thinks, dropping his head onto the cool top of the kitchen table.

Berwald doesn't seem thrilled by the disturbance either, which isn't a surprise. He glares at the door for a long time as if he could will Mathias to go away by telepathic means.

"Are you guys ignoring me? That's no way to treat a friend!" Mathias says, and they can almost hear the pout in his voice.

"Who said you were a friend?" Tino mumbles against upraised knees, wanting to fall asleep and not wake up for at least three days.

Fortunately, Mathias doesn't seem to hear his little remark. "I have something important to ask you both!"

Berwald rolls his eyes and does his best to continue about his business as though nothing is out of the ordinary. He cleans his glasses with the tail of his shirt and flips open a newspaper, letting out a yawn in the process.

"Come on! I've brought your phone charger back, Berwald!"

"Leave it by the door," Berwald grunts in a low tone, still refusing to invite the boy in.

"Please, please, please open the door! I swear this is important. I wouldn't be out here, groveling on your doorstep, if it wasn't," Mathias reasons, and it seems Berwald is beginning to cave in because he inches his way toward the door, debating his options.

At long last, he turns the lock, and Mathias comes storming inside like a hurricane, full of energy as usual, despite last night's party. How has he managed to get away from the aftermath without even a tiny headache? Did he drink the punch? He must have, and yet, he's completely fine. The normal rules of the earth don't apply to him, apparently.

"What's this important thing you had to talk about?" Berwald asks, but Mathia's mind is already elsewhere.

"Got any milk around here? I was going to smuggle some from the dining hall, so I could have cereal this morning, but I forgot."

Berwald scowls and his nose scrunches up in displeasure. "That's why you were banging on the door?"

"Yeah, that, and I really do have your phone charger," Mathias mutters before shoving the adapter and its cable into Berwald's chest. "So, you don't have any milk?"

"No."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

Mathias smiles with fake sweetness, sweeps into the kitchen area, and wrenches open the mini-fridge. A second later, he takes out a small, half-empty carton of milk and holds it up as though it's a bar of gold.

"Thanks, guys. See ya later," he says before making his escape, except Berwald blocks his path just in time and snatches the milk back.

"Hey! Give it here!"

"I said you couldn't have it," Berwald snarls, sounding pretty intimidating.

"No, you said you didn't have any, which was a lie, but don't worry, I'll forgive you for lying if you just let me take this carton off your hands," Mathias replies, tongue-in-cheek.

"Go away, Mathias."

"That's what I'm trying to do. Just give the milk back. You've soured over the years, Berwald. You didn't used to be this cruel to me."

Berwald's nostrils flare as he tries to control his welling anger. "When are you going to stop this?"

"Stop what?"

"Stop trying to reconcile things by being a pest. Leave the past in the past, and stop taking out your frustrations on Tino."

Mathias furrows his brows together and smooths a hand over his hair as though he wants to tame it but can't. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You didn't take him out yesterday just to make a new friend."

"I wanted him to have a good time."

"No, you wanted to embarrass him and make him miserable. Your plan failed."

It's Mathias's turn to scowl. He returns Berwald's glare, forcibly grabs the milk back, and storms out of the dorm without another word.

Tino takes some time to let everything register in his hungover head and finally mumbles, "What was that all about?"

"Nothing, don't worry."

"You mentioned something about leaving the past in the past?"

"It's a long story that you don't want to hear. Trust me," Berwald insists, aggressive enough to make Tino back down for the meantime.

"Okay, if you say so."

* * *

Focusing in class becomes harder than ever before. As Tino stares at the blackboard and watches his professor's mouth move, he doesn't understand any of what's being said because all he can think about is the party and the cryptic exchange between Berwald and Mathias. He spends an entire week dragging his feet to and fro across campus, physically present but mentally absent. It's all so strange. What did he miss? How do Berwald and Mathias know each other anyway? It didn't seem like a significant question to ask before, but now Tino is dying to know the answer.

And since he isn't going to be getting any answers from Berwald, he supposes his only option is to speak to Mathias directly.

He knows he can't simply walk into the boy's dorm room because Berwald would likely find out and be suspicious. No, he has to be stealthier about it.

Thankfully, it turns out Mathias is a fairly popular figure at the school, and all it takes is a little asking around at the campus' Student Activities Board, of which Mathias is apparently a part of, to get some information on his whereabouts in between classes. He claims he has a campus event he would like to organize, and one of the girls at the board reveals that he can find Mathias hanging about in the game room around lunchtime.

And so, Tino stakes out the area and, fortunately, he is rewarded for his efforts. Fifteen minutes into waiting, Mathias comes traipsing through the door and greets a bunch of other students hanging around the vintage arcade game collection in the room before he sits himself in a pleather armchair, drops his feet on the nearby coffee table, and makes himself at home.

"Mathias?"

"You're stalking me now?" Mathias asks with a joking air, except there's an underlying sharpness that Tino doesn't miss.

"I just wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away."

This seemed a lot easier when he imagined it in his head. Will Mathias get angry if Tino tries to snoop too much?

"Uhmm... I just wanted to ask..."

"I'm listening."

"How did you and Berwald meet?"

Mathias narrows his eyes. "Did he put you up to this?"

"No! I swear he doesn't know I'm here."

Mathias huffs, folding his arms across his chest. "We had a thing and now we don't, okay?"

"A thing...? Oh, oh. Berwald is—?"

"Yeah."

Something about this news makes Tino's breathing speed up. "Wow. Okay… I'm sorry, I know that was kind of a personal question."

Berwald and Mathias were together once? The thought alone makes Tino incredibly confused and gives him the urge to laugh. It's hard to imagine Berwald surrounding himself with someone who is so rowdy and demanding all of the time. How did they ever get along? Were they constantly arguing and at odds with one another? Is that why they broke up?

Tino wants to know more, but it really isn't his place to ask.

"Whatever. It was a while ago… You can go away now," Mathias says with a sniff, and Tino hurriedly turns away, knowing better than to aggravate him.

Berwald sure is full of surprises. Just when Tino thought he was starting to figure him out, he's thrown off guard. Oddly enough, Tino can feel a lurking bud of guilt expand in his stomach. What if Berwald didn't want him to find out he's gay? Is Tino now supposed to pretend that he doesn't know? Wouldn't that be deceptive?

Then again, Berwald has the right to know. Maybe it'll make things awkward between them, but it's better to be honest than to have the truth come out eventually anyway. Or… Berwald might just tell him soon enough and then Tino can just act like he's finding out for the first time.

Ugh, why did he have to go prying in the first place? When will he learn that ignorance really is bliss?

He heads back to the dorm that evening, feeling terrible for a multitude of reasons—going behind Berwald's back, being nosy, dredging up old wounds…

And he must not be very good at concealing his emotions because Berwald notices right away that something is up.

"Bad day?" Berwald asks as he comes inside and drops his backpack before retiring to his signature spot on the couch.

"No, nothing like that."

"What is it then?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Mmm… Okay."

That's Berwald's great gift—he knows when to give up and allow another person their space. He doesn't cross boundaries. Tino, on the other hand, is another story.

"Hey, there's this thing going on... The club fair. There's going to be free food. Do you want to go?"

Tino rubs a hand over his eyes and jolts with amazement, taken aback that Berwald would actually invite him to go out where there will be other people, music, and a lot of other social nuisances. It doesn't seem like something Berwald would be interested in at all, and it's sudden. Berwald doesn't do anything suddenly. He has to make plans a month in advance, doesn't leave the dorm unless he absolutely has to, and avoids people in general like the plague.

"Uhh, sure! That sounds fun," Tino says, trying not to seem too eager, which is a tendency of his.

Berwald smiles the tiniest smile Tino has ever witnessed, and honestly, it's as though the world has been flipped upside down. A smiling Berwald can't be a good sign for things to come. Something isn't right. It's too good to be true.

"It's tomorrow."

"Okay, I'm free tomorrow."

"Okay."

Tino smiles back, guilt forgotten.

* * *

He practically sprints out of his last class the following day, so excited by the fact that he's actually going out to an event with Berwald. When did Berwald become a person he willing started devoting time to? Somewhere between vomiting on the young man's shoes and finding out his history with Mathias, he'd reached a breakthrough in their relationship. Somehow, he has gone from just being his serial-killer roommate to a friend.

He has come to appreciate their early morning and late night conversations. He enjoys waking up to see Berwald already catching up on new reading material with cups of coffee waiting for them both. He likes that he has been able to gain Berwald's trust—that he can talk to him for hours like no other person can while also being able to feel comfortable in the occasional silence between them.

So when he sees Berwald standing next to a long row of tables that have been set up outside for the fair, he doesn't hesitate to march right on over to him with a friendly grin.

"Hey," Berwald says.

"Hey. I saw they have cotton candy. Do you want to get some?"

"Sure."

"Okay! I'll get it for us!" Tino offers, heart thrumming with half-skittish beats. When he returns and hands Berwald the pink-and-blue swirled sugary treat, he tells himself this is the best moment he's experienced at university thus far—way better than the party and the monotone classes.

Berwald takes a bite of the cotton candy, and Tino wishes he could take a picture even though it would likely make Berwald unhappy.

"How does it taste?" Tino asks curiously, refusing to take a bite of his own until he gets a response.

"Too sweet," Berwald mutters, swallowing hard and grimacing.

Tino's heart nearly bursts from all of the emotion it's bearing. "That's good. It's supposed to be like that."

They walk around a bit and explore all of the clubs that are advertising themselves at the event. Tino doesn't consider himself to be a student with much school-spirit, and maybe if he didn't procrastinate constantly and loaf around for a minimum of four hours a day, he could consider committing himself to being a part of a club, but until that day comes, he'll just have to accept that he's not ready for an extracurricular activity.

There's a table with a "wheel of fortune." If you spin the wheel and it lands on a certain color, you can win a prize. Tino gives it a go and doesn't have any luck with it, but then Berwald takes a turn and wins himself a book and a box of pens. If there's anything Tino knows about Berwald, it's that he'll be able to put those prizes to good use.

Aside from some mingling, there isn't much else to do, and so, Berwald makes a new suggestion. "Want to go for a trip?"

"A trip to where?"

"It's a surprise."

Tino widens his eyes comically and laughs, "I never thought you'd be the type of person to like surprises."

"I don't like surprises. I just like coming up with surprises for other people."

"Fair enough. Let's go, then!"

"Okay, we'll take my car."

"You have a car? Since when?"

"Yeah, it's my parents'. Still works," Berwald explains, leading the way to the campus parking lot.

Had Tino been asked to get into Berwald's car a month ago, he would have screamed for help and started running away, but now, he feels rather assured that the young man won't try anything creepy. He supposes there's still a one percent chance that his change of heart toward Berwald was wrong and that Berwald really is a serial-killer-in-the-making, but he decides to take that chance.

They get into Berwald's little sedan and end up in a large park just outside of the city. It's surrounded by a little lake, and, in the looming twilight, the lampposts lighting the walkway give off a warm, inviting glow.

"This is my favorite place in all of Sweden."

"It sure is pretty," Tino agrees as they walk between the trees and down the dirt path. "Swedish trees are different from Finnish trees."

"How can you tell?"

"They're taller. Everything in Sweden is taller," Tino jokes, emphasizing his point by standing on the tips of his toes and still failing to match Berwald's height.

Berwald smirks and adjusts his glasses before walking onward. The water in the lake is rippling a bit, filling the silence. "If I'm ever going through something, I always end up coming back to this same place. It has always been here for me."

"That's really beautiful."

"It's silly."

"It's not," Tino assures, wanting to wipe the sadness off of Berwald's face. He seems lonely.

"I'm glad we're friends," Berwald murmurs.

"Me, too."

They sit by the edge of the lake and watch the sun completely disappear under the horizon. The crickets come out, a thick mist from the water fills their lungs and makes them tired, and all Tino wants to do is sit by a campfire and take a nap.

"We should go. There's a lot of wildlife we don't want to run into around here."

All of Tino's peaceful thoughts are immediately shattered. "What kind of wildlife?"

"You don't want to know."

And so, they briskly make their way back to the car and drive to campus, and Tino can't wait to head inside their cozy dorm, put on some slippers, and drink some hot cocoa.

Berwald parks the car in the same spot it was standing in before their trip, steps out into the chilly night once more, and mumbles, "I want to tell you something."

"Sure, what is it?"

"I'll tell you once we're inside," he decides, leading the way.

They make it to their familiar doorstep, and Berwald is just unlocking the door when Mathias, of course, comes to interrupt them for the umpteenth time.

"Where've you two been? It explains why Tino hasn't been stalking me anymore," Mathias says from behind them, voice echoing in the quiet hallway.

"Stalking?" Berwald asks.

Oh, no, Tino thinks, holding his breath.

"Yeah, Tino came hunting me down the other day and wanted to know all about us."

Berwald frowns. "Us?"

"Yup. Guess he wanted to make sure we were through so he could take a stab at you."

Tino wants to shrivel up and disappear when Berwald spins around to look at him with icy eyes.

"If there was something you wanted to know, why didn't you ask me?" Berwald demands, clearly hurt.

"I… I didn't…" Tino struggles to come up with an answer that doesn't sound completely horrible.

"You didn't think I would tell you, right? Well, I _wouldn't_ have told you because it's not your business."

"I'm sorry."

Berwald shakes his head and goes inside, giving Tino the cold shoulder while Mathias looks rather pleased with himself.

"Well, I'll let you two lovebirds go back to what you were doing," Mathias gloats, slipping away back into his own dorm.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Here's the final chapter, guys! Thanks again to **peppermenttea** on tumblr for requesting this. It was really fun to write SuFin for the first time, but I'm sorry if I botched it up. I tried, haha.

* * *

Why is it that all of Tino's friendships crash and burn like this? Can't he just have one meaningful relationship with someone for once without it ending in an emotional catastrophe? Is he doomed to be alone and friendless forever?

He stands outside the dorm room for a long while, debating whether or not go in. Berwald deserves his space at the moment, and maybe it'd be best to just leave him alone until things cool down. Except, where is he supposed to go? Berwald is the only true friend he's made since the start of the semester, and he can't exactly knock on a stranger's dorm and ask to spend the night with them.

It's cold, but he steps outside and finds a bench to sit on anyway. He'll head back in an hour. Is that too soon? What if Berwald never forgives him for prying? He'll sit out here all day if it means earning the young man's trust back.

He tugs the sleeves of his coat over his hands, curls into himself, and prepares for a long, sleepless, and anxiety-filled night—not unlike his first day on campus. He watches the autumn leaves in the trees above him break from their branches and float down to the ground—shades of yellows, reds, and browns. Swedish trees really are a sight to behold this time of year.

A gust of wind ruffles his hair, and he shudders. He should be used to the cold by now, and yet, every passing year seems to feel colder and colder the older he gets.

He lowers his head to his knees and daydreams, wondering what things are like back home and whether he is missed. How will he ever manage to live on his own and support himself if he can't even survive university and has to sit stranded out here on a bench? Is this foreshadowing what his future holds? This is why he needs a roommate who likes him—he needs someone to tell him to stop being melodramatic.

"Tino?"

He lifts his head, sniffles against the cool air, and sees the last person he expected to come after him. "Berwald, I'm sorry… I didn't—"

"I overreacted," Berwald admits, just as apologetic and remorseful. "I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with Mathias… And I was embarrassed."

Tino slides himself over to one side of the bench to make room for Berwald to sit next to him. "Embarrassed? Why would you be embarrassed?"

Berwald clears his throat softly and tinkers with his glasses to calm his nerves. "You know…"

"I'm not sure I do."

"About having been with Mathias… I was worried you might think less of me… That you would think it was inappropriate."

Tino feels the muscles in his face tug his lips into a frown. "You thought I wouldn't be okay with you liking guys?"

"Yes."

"Why would you worry about something like that? Even if I wasn't okay with it, you shouldn't be bothered by what other people think. You are who you are, and you shouldn't change that for anyone just because someone else thinks it's not right," Tino tells him with unwavering confidence.

"I was going to tell you, but Mathias managed to do it before me. Sorry."

"You think I'm offended that I found out from Mathias and not from you?"

"Aren't you?"

"Of course not! I thought _you_ were offended that I found out from Mathias and not from you"

Berwald lets out a heavy sigh. "This is why I can't have friends. It's too confusing."

Tino laughs and pats Berwald's back. "I know how you feel."

"I mean, I _was_ angry at first, but I soon realized I was angrier with myself than anyone else."

"You should never have to be angry or ashamed of something like that."

"I know, but I am anyway. Sometimes, I want to be… normal."

So, that's it, then. Berwald isn't some scary, intimidating guy. He's just a boy with as many insecurities as anybody else.

"What even is normal?" Tino asks with a serious expression. "Everybody has something that sets them apart, and if I've learned anything from being around Mathias for too long, it's that trying to fit in is a wasted effort. I think the lesson I was supposed to learn from all of this—if I have to find the silver-lining—is that we need to accept ourselves, and stop trying to be the people we're not, or else we'll never be happy. Everyone has a mask they wear nowadays because they're so afraid of others seeing them without it, and I know now that I don't want to be that way. I don't want to be normal."

Berwald looks down at his lap and, once again, Tino is filled with the overwhelming need to make him smile—to make him feel at peace and remind him he's not alone.

"Since we're being honest and open…" Tino begins, finally feeling ready to say what needs to be said right at this moment because he may not get another chance to do so. He owes it to Berwald to give him an explanation of his own. "

"We have something in common. I'm like you."

"Oh," Berwald mumbles, snapping his head up in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Did you always know?"

"Not always, but I think I knew there was something different about me when I was a kid," Tino says, and it's like a lead block has been lifted off of his chest. That wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, and he's so impossibly relieved to have admitted it. He hasn't even been able to tell his own parents about his feelings, but somehow, he was able to tell Berwald without hesitation. Is he dreaming? When did he become so forward and courageous?

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For telling me. I know it isn't easy."

"Oh, sure," Tino chuckles with a grin, feeling both awkward and not. Normally, this would be the most uncomfortable conversation he could have with another person, but Berwald doesn't make it feel strange or odd at all. In fact, he's pretty relaxed and cordial about it. "So, you see, I'm not normal either."

"That's good. I'd be disappointed if you were," Berwald replies with a smirk. "Let's go inside. It's cold."

Tino has never been one to believe in soulmates or movie-like romances with happy endings and oodles of fluff. Nevertheless, as he trails behind Berwald and makes his way back for their dorm, he feels a prickling excitement in his stomach and pictures himself and Berwald growing old beneath these Swedish trees. It's silly, of course, but he lets himself be foolishly happy. He feels like he's walking on air.

He stares at the back of Berwald's head and sees him in a completely different light. Just like that, he's no longer only a friend. He's something more important—more long-lasting. He can imagine dragging Berwald to the cinema with him, and going out to dinner together, and talking about how youth is wasted on the young, and not needing anyone else except each other. It's as though just for the briefest second, he's able to peek into the future and see himself in a way he's never seen himself before.

"Are you okay?" Berwald asks, noticing how quiet he's become.

"Yes. I'm great. Really great," he assures before walking through the doorway.

* * *

It's time to talk to Mathias again.

Tino isn't feeling vengeful, nor is he out to get him in any way. Rather, he just wants to get to the bottom of what's been bothering him. He has always believed that people aren't mean or evil by nature—something makes them act in the ways they do, and if there's something he can do to help Mathias get some closure, he wants to let him know he's here to offer support.

"Knock, knock, open up!" Tino shouts, mimicking Mathias' tone as he bangs on his door.

There's the sound of something falling on the floor before the door comes squeaking open halfway. "What do you want?"

It's nine o'clock in the morning, but it appears Mathias is still dressed in the clothes he slept in and hasn't made an effort to comb his hair (not that he ever does anyway). He must have had a rough night because he doesn't look nearly as jovial and irritatingly peppy as he usually is.

"Are you okay?" Tino asks, worried.

"Yeah, I just… I've had a lot on my mind, and I have this headache I can't get rid of."

"I can come back later if this is a bad time."

"Nah, it's all right. Come in—my roommate's in class."

Tino's fairly taken aback at how well he's being received. Just the other day, he could've sworn Mathias hated him. He keeps his guard up and makes a mental note to be vigilant in case this is a trick. He follows Mathias and searches for a place to sit, except the dorm is an absolute mess. Clothes and junk are strewn everywhere—the polar opposite of what Tino and Berwald's dorm looks like.

Mathias clears some clothes off of the nearest chair and tells him to sit. "Sorry for the mess."

"It's okay. Believe it or not, I've seen worse."

"Hah, no kidding?" Mathias snickers, except his laughter is missing some of its energy. He leans against the couch but doesn't sit on it, too antsy to stay in one place, apparently. Instead, he paces back and forth as he talks, and it reminds Tino of how he was buzzing around that time when he ran him over with his bike. "So, what do you want?"

"I just wanted to talk and make sure you were okay. You've been kind of tense lately."

Mathias, understandably, is suspicious. "Uhhh, I'm fine."

"Did you talk to Berwald? I think you guys should work things out."

"Yeah, well, you can keep your suggestions to yourself," Mathias snaps before quickly chiding himself. "Sorry, that wasn't fair. Anyway, it's not like Berwald would talk to me anyway. He doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Is that why you keep trying to find creative ways to annoy him into talking to you?"

Mathias scoffs and takes a sip from a stale soda bottle that's been perched on the coffee table for who knows how long. "Berwald's been putting up with me for a long time, and he's going to have to keep doing it."

"Why does it have to be about 'putting up with you' when you guys can just talk things out and be friends? Wouldn't that be easier and less stressful for you both?" Tino asks, confused as to why Mathias has to overcomplicate things.

"He wouldn't be my friend."

"How do you know that? I'm sure he would if you reached out to him. He's friendlier than he seems."

Mathias rolls his eyes. "You say that as though you've known him longer than I have."

"I know I've been more nosy than I have any right to be lately, but I just can't live in these dorms like this when I know there's bad blood between the three of us. I want a truce," Tino explains, trying to show that he's being as sincere as possible and doesn't have any hidden motives.

Mathias sighs and rubs at his head roughly, probably agitating his headache even more. "Berwald and I have been like this toward each other for so long that I don't even know how to act like 'friends' around him anymore. Back when I first met him, he was the only one who didn't judge me like the rest of the damn world, you know what I mean? I just talked and he listened, and it was nice. I'd never had anyone do that for me before—just hear what I have to say."

Tino nods. He, too, has been on the receiving end of Berwald's rapt attention.

"He let me talk about my messed up family and didn't care when I was rambling or being dramatic. I threw way too much emotional baggage on him, but he never seemed to mind. I never could understand how someone could be so calm and collected all of the time, no matter how much you pushed them. It's like he makes it his job to observe the world and not participate in it, which bothered the hell out of me. I _wanted_ him to participate. I wanted him to get angry with me and go party until our heads were spinning or whatever, and he just wanted different things. So, he left me."

"I'm sorry."

Mathias shakes his head slowly and cradles it in one hand. "No, don't be. It was the right thing. We weren't good for each other. I was destructive for both us, and it wasn't good. It got bad sometimes. Really bad, and when he left, I didn't know what to do because he was the only one I had. I didn't have a family or any real friends—just fake people who I would talk to in passing. All I had was Berwald, and even he was sick of me."

"He wasn't sick of you. You said it yourself—you guys just wanted different things," Tino murmurs.

"I couldn't accept it though. It was like someone close to me had died. I couldn't let go. He was my emotional crutch, which sounds really awful and sick—I guess it kind of was—but I didn't think about it in that way before… And then you came along. I see the way he looks at you. It's the real deal."

Tino furrows his brows and tries to ignore the rising warmth in his neck and ears. "What do you mean?"

"Aww, come on, you can't be that blind. He likes you. A lot. You got him to talk—most people can't even get him to do that. So, the question now is, do you like him back?"

"I-I think so."

"No, you have to _know_ not think. Nobody hurts his heart, you got it? You're either in it all the way or not at all," Mathias warns, wagging a finger at Tino.

Tino lets out a short laugh and long stream of breath, thinking hard. "Okay, but first, I need you to promise me something."

"Hey, I don't do favors for anyone."

"Not even a tiny one that'll benefit you as well? I want you to talk with Berwald. Please? He won't hate you, I promise. If you want, I'll even let him know beforehand that—"

"No! Don't mention anything!" Mathias quickly cuts in. "I'll talk to him, but if he hates my guts afterward, you're dead. Understood?"

This is a risk Tino isn't afraid to take. "Okay. Understood."

"Good, now get out of my room because my head is killing me."

* * *

Berwald's missing.

Tino has pretty much memorized the other boy's schedule by now, and he knows Berwald should have returned to the dorm an hour ago. This can mean only one of two things: he's getting food, or he's hiding in the place he always goes to when he's trying to get away from society—the park.

He checks the dining hall first and doesn't find him there, and so, it has to be the second of the two possibilities. He looks for Berwald's car in the parking lot, checking the usual spot it's in, and sees that it's still there.

He hardly has enough time to feel concerned when he hears someone behind him say, "Hey."

"Berwald, hi. I thought you were going to the park."

"I was, but I was waiting for you. I knew you would come looking for me," Berwald says with a smile. It's nice to see him smiling more often. "I know how much you love Swedish trees and thought I'd take you along," he jokes, pursing his lips.

Tino turns red and laughs before hopping into the passenger's side of the car, ready to go. "I sure do. Come on, then!"

Berwald is happy to oblige, and soon, they're off. Tino rolls down the window and sticks his head out, letting the wind rush over his face. He wants to stay in this moment forever, and when they reach the park, Tino has to reluctantly yank himself out of the car to follow Berwald to his usual spot by the lake.

"Mathias told me about how you went to visit him."

"Ahh, I figured he would," Tino says sheepishly.

"Thank you for what you did. It's going to take time, but I think things are going to be okay between us again, and… It feels good to not have to feel frustrated every other morning when he barges in to steal something of mine," Berwald grumbles, both pleased and a tad exasperated by the whole situation.

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes, I do. I owe you. I have to give you something to show my gratitude. What do you want?"

Tino shrugs his shoulders and says between a bout of chuckles, "Swedish trees."

"I'd give you all of the trees in Sweden if I could," Berwald says, returning the laugh. "As long as you give me something from Finland to remember you by."

Tino crosses his arms in mock frustration. "Nope, you can't have any Finnish stuff. It's too sacred."

"I didn't think you could be so mean."

"I can't help it sometimes," Tino says lightly before a new idea sparks in his mind. "I can give you something else though."

"What?"

"Close your eyes."

Oblivious, Berwald does so, and Tino watches his blue eyes disappear from view.

Tino bites his lip for a second, musters all of the bravery and brashness that he's built up since he started university, and leans forward to kiss Berwald. It's quick and soft, and if he thinks about it for too long, Tino has to wonder if it really happened in the first place. When he pulls back, Berwald has already opened his eyes and is blinking at him in astonishment.

Tino waits for him to say something, and it's as though an eternity passes.

"Better than any Finnish trees you could give me," Berwald mumbles finally.

Tino throws his head back with an airy laugh and lets himself fall in the plush grass behind him.

It's going to be a great four years.


End file.
